


The Ends and The Means

by kynologia



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst GALORE!, M/M, this is probably really bad because it's literally just like me writing for some catharsis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kynologia/pseuds/kynologia
Summary: Spades Slick, in the moments before opening the safe.





	The Ends and The Means

Spades Slick had a very singular mind at most moments. When there was a task he wanted done, it would be done - the razor-sharp drive he moved with could accomplish feats greater than expected of him. There was little internal banter, or doubt, and less still _emotions_ , within the mob boss when he was after something. Before, as an Archagent, all of this made him the best damn worker there was, when he felt like it.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

He was seconds away from finally prying open the safe that would end it all, that would finally bring about the satisfaction that only ruin could accomplish. _The ends justify the means; the ends justify the means,_ echoed silently.

But what ends were left?

Slick chanced a half-glance back at the destroyed room around him. His crew was gone, scattered throughout who knows where. Boxcars, Deuce - Droog.

 _Droog_. The Draconian Dignitary. His second-in-command.

His. Eternally, yet for just a moment. Forever, and almost always.

In that second before his victory, Spades Slick found his mind busier than it had been in many years.

He thought of his subordinates - no, _friends_ , who would be able to reunite without him. _Good_ , he mused wistfully.

He thought of  _her_ , his own kismesis who had laid claim to his eye so savagely within that very same night. There was no 'good' following thoughts of her. There never had been.

But Droog...

There was always the quietest afterthought when Diamonds Droog was involved. An incomprehensible whisper that Slick couldn't parse or put together, a murmur that remained a mystery until it was far too late. Until now.

The means that may have justified a different end, in a different life.

* * *

The first time they kissed was not gentle nor spectacular. It was like the two carapacians themselves: violent, a constrained rage, the metallic taste of blood permeating the action. It was terrible, and wonderful, and fueling a fire that should never have been started and had no hope of burning.

"Whatever you need, boss," Diamonds had said in the way that he did, knowing all the parts of Slick that he kept hidden from even himself. Droog saw with clarity that Slick deliberately blinded himself to, even through the smoke that surrounded him.

What Slick needed, of course, was Droog. His Dignitary.

The months leading up to that final heist, the end of it all, almost had the makings of something soft in it. Violent kisses and touches became more tender with each night - 'taking care of needs' became 'I want to see you, I want to be near you, I need you, _I want to be with you_.' Had Droog known it? Had his cunning, dastardly, lovely cohort been wiser than Slick himself?

Slick had a singular mind, after all. Kisses were just kisses in the end. All that was left unsaid never truly reached that one-track mind that was constantly on a mission.

If only that mission could have been to connect, at least for a little while. If only the silence of their shared sleepless nights could have brought a certain peace to that mind.

...

Their last night together wasn't one filled of passion or needing or wanting. It was full of song.

At three in the morning, when the world was asleep, Slick and Droog came together to create music. Wicked fingers playing across ivory keys combined with the sonorous harmony of a saxophone, and it was the most connected they had even been. It was in that they the two wayward carapacians truly reached understanding in what hadn't been said.

"Thank you for the song," Diamonds had said in the way that he did. Droog always knew more.

* * *

In the end, it all came to a close alone. Slick without Droog, without any of his crew.

He finally did it, hadn't he?

As he entered the dark of the long sought after safe, he felt cold in the desert night. It all felt too cold.

Spades Slick finally had what he thought he wanted.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for myself and just happened to be posting it anyway. i hope anyone in this dead fandom can find enjoyment in it!
> 
> i listened to this while writing: [Three in the Morning (Slick)](http://plazmataz.tumblr.com/post/72823302316/a-new-piano-arrangement-of-three-in-the-morning-in)
> 
> tumblr: kynologia


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